Discovery House - Part One -
This is a private party, no heavy metal bands allowed
Continued...
“What do you mean? I don’t understand”
“All the people in this hall seem to have died or have some kind of ailment. At the other end of the hall is a desk and there are people sat around it logging names onto a computer who then give you a number that you have to stick on to your chest.”
“What, you mean died as in dead?”
“No, I mean having another round of twister. Of course I mean dead. You madam have died, and if you think this fact unfair then I suggest you go and join the queue.” The man extends his hand in the direction of the jostling crowd.
“You mean you’re dead?” said the woman.
The man looked at the cricket stump with his remaining eye. “Yes.”
“What’s it like?”
“It is a bit like playing pitch ‘n’ putt at the local park and your mates badger you in to doing another nine holes. But you should know that with being dead as well.”
“Yes, I remember being in a car with my new friends, I was singing a Phil Collins number with everyone.”
“Oh, good lord, that’s enough to kill anyone. Which one?”
“You can’t hurry love, anyway, I seem to recall turning sharply and then hitting something.”
“Anything else you remember?”
“Not really, I don’t even know why we lost control of the car, it happened so quickly well except for the last two seconds. What happened to you?”
This was the first time the man slowed down, he had seemed to be on an irritable edge since they met. He breathed in expanding his chest twice that of normal breaths and exhaled through his nose. The sigh seemed to let a lot of the tension out of his persona and eventually he turned to look at the crowd again and spoke in a relaxed voice.
“You’ll laugh if I tell you,”
“No, no I won’t,” the woman said reassuringly.
“It seems so silly, so pointless, so pathetic.”
“What does?”
“We were on the park. My mates and I always get together in the summer, we go up to the local gardens once or twice a month and play pitch and putt, footie, crazy golf.”
The man made a golfing action, pretending to putt a ball into an imaginary hole.
“We were so bored last month we ended up in the children’s zoo. Anyway, Dave played cricket for a local team and we planned to borrow some of their gear for a day and have a game of cricket instead of pitch and putt, because we were getting a little fed up of losing our deposit every time we played, I mean two golf balls each just do not go around, especially when we are all half pissed.”
The woman suddenly winced, her faced screwed, she felt a sharp pain in the top of her head as if someone was slowly pushing a needle into her skull. She reached out to the one eyed man for balance and security but then all of a sudden she was fine.
“Are you alright?” said the man concerned.
“I don’t know what happened, I feel OK now,”
“Are you sure you are feeling fine, mind you there is nothing I can do about it if you weren’t.”
“You were saying about your two balls,” said the woman regaining herself.
“We set up the stumps and after we finished arguing about who was batting and waiting for inconsiderate twats who find amusement in walking right across the place where we were playing, it came my turn to bowl, I caught........” The man stopped talking. Suddenly, his eyes were transfixed on the woman’s head. The last of the colour left in his face drained away into the rest of his body.
“What? What is it?” The woman looked at him quizzically and then she felt it. She drew a quick breath as she felt blood, her own blood, pouring from the top of her head.
Read part two of 'Discovery House' here
"I was actually beginning to feel scared with that tense heavy stomach feeling and raised heart rate.”
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